Harry Potter and the Scars of Tomorrow
by odellthejezebel
Summary: A styling blend of Rowlings approachable sense of whimsy, while building upon the darkest tones of the last installations of the series. Follow Harry, Ron, and Hermione as they try and unravel the mystery behind the disappearances of magical creatures and the ritual killings that strike a startling familiarity with Harry.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1.

The Moore house which only an hour ago was positively alive with activity now creaked and groaned as it began to settle from the cool night air. The inhabitants within completed their nightly tasks: getting into pajamas, brushing their teeth, and laying their clothes out for the next morning before snuggling into the comfort of their respective beds.

The remaining lights in the home flicked off from view of the windows one by one until completely dark. The shutters lightly tapped against the old paint chipped walls in the soothing rhythm of a heart beat. The moon cast a particularly radiant glow parting the the glen where the house was so peacefully nestled.

Surrounding the solitary home were black hooded figures adorned in silver runed masks in the shapes of grimaced skulls. Each personage withdrew long, spindly, and bare saplings, roots and all from within their sleeves and brandished them like swords. All at once they broke into a full sprint towards the home. Catlike and quietly they parted the tall grasses, until THWUMP. One of the figures slammed into something unseen. It stood up, shook its head and without a moment's hesitation caressed the invisible barrier with its branch. As it did, the sapling sprouted leaves and small pink flower buds.

The once invisible barrier veined, and cracked into a membrane that melted away in great globs, like fondue. With a rasp of air escaping, the magic membrane vanished completely. The hooded figures burst into a full sprint again until they closed in on the house. One of the figures approached the door, examined the knob with apprehension. It took a step back waved its sapling at the door, which caused it to bloom white flower buds this time. Apparently satisfied, the figure slid its sapling into its sleeve and placed both hands on the door. With a slight push, the figure began to pass through the solid door, as if it were made of gelatin. The others followed suit. One by one disappearing into the home.

A moment of silence.

Then a display of bright red and blue flashes illuminated the whole of the house from behind the drawn curtains, and cracks in the walls. Screams of children filled the glen. Followed by the most horrible of silences.


	2. Chapter 2

The Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Law Enforcement was in large part vacant this time of day, aside from a few clerks rifling through file cabinets noisily. Just enough men and women to manage the floo network, and the recently acquired telephones, and the occasional inter-office house elf running errands.

A man wearing an Auror's navy blue robes strides through the network of desks, balancing two full coffee mugs in his hands. He blows a tuft of unkempt black hair from between his eyes. The lock of hair he usually uses to strategically hide his lightning bolt shaped scar in the center of his forehead. As if simply hiding the notable scar of Harry Potter were enough to hide his identity, which has been printed in wizarding newspapers all across the world for the better part of three decades.

Harry, ducks into a corner office split by two desks pressed back to back, with a tower of unfiled paperwork acting as a type of privacy curtain between them. Harry throws himself in his desk chair with a hearty sigh. He slides a cup of coffee through a small canyon in the paperwork, seemingly created for the sole purpose of passing coffee mugs and other like-sized objects.

Harry takes a small sip from his coffee and picks up his current copy of The Daily Prophet. Strewn across the pages are moving colored images of a witch politician from America denying talking to the press, then apparating from sight. An ad of a young wizard flying a broom out of a muggle pistol selling breath mints, though Harry couldn't make any earthly connection between the relevance of any of the imagery and fresh breath. Perhaps a sign of his age. He flipped further down the pages, scanning.

"Aha! Down to page fifteen, Ron. A small editorial," Harry said as he held the newspaper above the tower, with his finger pointed to a moving thumbnail image of himself purchasing sweets from a street stall.

But no response came.

"Ron?" No answer. "Ron!" Harry called out. He stood up and looked over the division of paper to see a man with his own copy of the Daily Prophet tented over his face. A solid snore rang out from under the paper, billowing the edges of the print.

"Oh hi, Hermione. We weren't expecting you."

In a ginger-haired streak of light Ron kicked up from his chair and immediately began scribbling on papers, blinking wildly as his eyes adjusted to the light.

"Can't do lunch today, darling. As you can see we're just swamped a-" Ron looked up to see a vacant office, and Harry beaming down at him.

"Blimey Harry, don't scare me like that," said Ron reclining in his chair, throwing his quill across the desk, splotching ink as it landed.

Harry held his paper aloft again, pointing.

"Down to page 15 today. Apparently all of the wizarding world needs to be informed on whether I prefer mango or pineapple flavored Sugar Stars."

"Yeah, well at least they're not interested in what kind of toilet paper you use," said Ron as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. "Any reports in yet?"

"Just a domestic disturbance. But I think Stern, and Nero were dispatched. Or was it Tilford, and Crantz? I always get them confused."

"Y'know no one ever talks about how boring peace times are for war heroes," said Ron folding his copy of the paper up, and stuffing it between a desk leg and the wall.

Harry shot Ron an incredulous look over the rim of his glasses.

"Oh, please. You know I don't mean it. Just a joke," said Ron defensively. "But after all the war trials; things certainly dried up as far as real detective work for Aurors."

Harry let out a weighted breath. "With any luck we've learned our lesson since the war. Certainly seems so. Halffams, seem to be widely acceptable nowadays."

"Halffams? Oh right. You're starting to talk like your kids. I suppose it is easier to say than 'Muggle-born' though."

"Mm. S'pose so. Anyway, relations with magic creatures are strengthening: we can thank Hermione and her department for that. And most of our calls are over trivial things like… hedge clippings ending up in a neighbor's garden. Let's just enjoy simplicity of our daily woes, eh?"

"I'll drink to that," said Ron as he reached for his coffee mug. "To our daily woes."

Ron and Harry toasted with a clink.

"To our daily woes."


End file.
